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Category: Erotica/Erotic Romance/Gay Fiction
Description: Joining the Royal Marine Commandos is a challenge that only the toughest men should take on. Platoon Sergeant Col 'Bulldog' Wilson's world of work, gym, exercise and discipline is heaved out of its angles when the new recruits arrive with Chris Thompson amongst them. Twenty-one, handsome, tall, university graduate, triathlete, and ... openly gay in an environment of institutional homophobia. Col finds himself thrown into turmoil that is nothing like any conflict he'd ever encountered, nor any operational theatre he'd ever fought in. When this particular battle becomes personal, he has to ask himself who is the enemy.
eBook Publisher: MLR Press, LLC/MLR Press, LLC,
eBookwise Release Date: December 2011

14 Reader Ratings:

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Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [349 KB]
Words: 76780
Reading time: 219-307 min.

Wednesday, 3 September 2003

"Sergeant Wilson," the platoon commander called out and Col turned, saluting.

"Yes, Sir?"

"I'd like to see you in my office."

"Yes, Sir." Bloody one pip wonder. Twenty-nothing and barely passed out of the officer course, now proving himself on his first post. Commissioned, just because he'd been born with a silver spoon ... but Col swallowed the grumble and made his way to the Lieutenant's office.

"Please take a seat." Col did, noticing the stack of papers on the officer's desk. "I'd like you to look through some of the applications, especially the equality forms." The second lieutenant produced a smaller bundle. "And in particular this one." Col found a piece of paper under his nose and he took it, quickly scanning through.

"Triathlete, not bad." Muttered to himself, "Graduate? What the hell's a student ..." and then he came to the next column. Reading it once, twice, a third time, just to make sure. "Homosexual?" He stared at the officer. "You must be kidding me."

"Apparently not."

"I hope the lad keeps that to himself."

"One would hope so, wouldn't one?" The lieutenant shrugged his shoulders and sighed. "I advise you to keep an eye on him. The recruit sounds extremely promising; high achievements in sports and intellectually above average. In fact, I was told they tried to recruit him directly into an officer career, but he refused to take the chance."

"Why?" Col studied the form once more, then placed the bundle in his lap.

"According to the report from the recruiting officer, he was adamant that while a commission was certainly the ultimate goal of anyone, he wanted to experience the ranks, first."

"And you believe that bullshit?" Col stood up. The 'anyone' was grating, and he felt targeted. Demoted, with no chance at this stage of his career to get close to a commission. But then he'd never been officer material. Too stuck in the dirt and best suited to the midst of the action. 'Bulldog' alright. They'd got his nickname spot on.

"Why wouldn't I believe it? What other motives might be feasible?"

"I reckon the guy's got something to prove." Col shrugged, kept the forms under his arm. "And if he isn't wise, and I don't think he is, judging from that little tick in the wrong box, he'll cause a hell of a lot of trouble."

"Then watch him. Besides, we cannot be seen to discriminate against him nor anyone else, because of religion, gender, race..."

"Sexuality," Col finished for the lieutenant. "I know, I know."

"Indeed. If we don't take care, we will get into trouble with the equality officers, and we cannot afford to bring ourselves into disrepute."

"Of course not, Sir. I will keep an eye on the recruit." Col saluted and left the office.

Christian Thompson. Twenty-one. Six foot. Green eyes. Brown hair.

He'd already memorised the vitals.

Like every day, Col worked out in the gym later, giving a grumble of recognition when a couple of mates entered. Dave and Mick, corporals, and the two section commanders under him. Mick made his way straight to the treadmill, while Dave planted himself at Col's head to assist -- unasked -- with the last reps of his bench presses.

"Bulldog, heard anything about the new recruits?"

Col grunted something unintelligible while going in for another rep. He didn't have his impressive physique for nothing.

"What?"

"Fucking ..." he forced out, "gay ..." an almighty groan, "university graduate!"

"What did you say?" Dave helped setting the bar into the rack. "You must be fucking kidding me."

Col reached for his towel and wiped the sweat off his face. "Nope. I swear, one of them's a faggot and not quiet about it."

Dave smirked. "Seems you get all the joy."

Getting up from the bench, Col cracked his knuckles with an angry glare. "Rather seems to me that I get all the shit. Stick the idiots into Col's platoon, he deserves it."

"Hey, calm down. You got less than a year of having to be mummy's golden boy."

"Cheers, mate." Col flipped his middle finger. "Bad enough to get demoted for drunk driving at the ripe old age of thirty-four. Having to suffer your bullshit is one step too far."

Dave laughed. "So far you've been as shiny as a sparkly star, I bet you'll get right back to Colour the moment your two years are over."

"Yeah, yeah." Col waved his mate off. "My bitch of an ex-wife is still pissing herself with laughter, getting me down like that."

Dave slapped Col's shoulder. "You're rid of her, forget it, mate. Let's go on the piss tonight. Last weekend before the kids are here. You never know, you might get a leg over tonight. I heard that some women prefer men of a certain age who are built like a brick shithouse." Dave grinned with all his teeth on display.

"I should be so lucky." Col laughed and waved his mate off.